"Here commeth [no] man in," sayd the porter,
"[By hym that dyed on] a tre,30
Tyll a false thefe be hanged,
Called Wyllyam of Cloudeslè."
Then spake the good yeman Clym of the Clough,
And swore by Mary fre,
"And if that we stande longe wythout,35
Lyke a thefe hanged shalt thou be.
"Lo here we have the kynges seale;
What! lordeyne, art thou wode?"
The porter went it had ben so,
And lyghtly dyd of hys hode.40
"Welcome be my lordes seale," he saide,
"For that ye shall come in:"
He opened the gate full shortlye,
An evyl openyng for him.
"Now are we in," sayde Adam Bell,45
"Thereof we are full faine,
But Christ [knoweth] that harowed hell,
How we shall com out agayne."
"Had we the keys," said Clim of the Clough,
"Ryght wel then [shoulde] we spede;50
Then might we come out wel ynough,
"When we se tyme and nede."
They called [the] porter to a counsell,
And wrange hys necke in two,
And caste him in a depe dongeòn,55
And toke hys keys hym fro.
"Now am I porter," sayde Adam Bel,
"Se, brother, the keys haue we here;
The worst porter to merry Caerlel,
That ye had thys hundred yere.60
"And now wyll we our bowes bend,
Into the towne wyll we go,
For to delyver our dere brother,
That lyveth in care and wo."
[And thereupon] they bent theyr bowes,65
And loked theyr stringes were round;
The market place [of] mery Caerlel,
They beset [in] that stound.